


shot in the dark

by johnllauren



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Campaign: Graduation (The Adventure Zone), Canon Compliant, Getting Together, M/M, Making Out, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26022034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnllauren/pseuds/johnllauren
Summary: Fitzroy giggles at nothing, leaning his head back onto the wall. Argo grins and shushes him half-heartedly as if a) anyone cares, and b) the thing to give them away would be Fitzroy’s laughter, not the smell or the smoke. He smiles crookedly. It’s the smile of someone who is more than a little high, very stressed, kind-of-maybe in love with his roommate, and about to make some questionable decisions. “Argo.”“Fitzroy.”“Have you ever tried-”“I already don’t want to hear the rest of this question.”Fitzroy scowls at him. “Shotgunning.”
Relationships: Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Comments: 5
Kudos: 66





	shot in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> as i said in the tags and summary this is about smoking weed so uh proceed with caution/if that upsets you just click off no worries !  
> fitz is ace in canon and in this fic. ace people can and do make out! (source: I am ace and my ace s/o and I make out all the time thanku)

Fitzroy giggles at nothing, leaning his head back onto the wall. Argo grins and shushes him half-heartedly as if a) anyone cares, and b) the thing to give them away would be Fitzroy’s laughter, not the smell or the smoke. 

They’re in Fitzroy’s room smoking because the first time they smoked in Argo and the Firbolg’s room and subsequently introduced the Firbolg to weed, which made him go batshit. The privacy of Fitzroy’s room serves them better anyway, and neither of them will admit it but they enjoy the time together. 

Argo holds his hand out and Fitzroy passes him the blunt, smiling as he does so. 

“Are you already that far gone?” Argo asks. 

“Oh, screw you,” Fitzroy responds, but he’s lost count of how many hits they’ve taken and his head is feeling pleasantly swimmy, so he supposes he is. 

The carefree feeling in both of their chests is aided by the fact that it’s a Friday night after another brutal week of classes and pretending they don’t know about Grey. The release provided by smoking is becoming less leisure and more necessary, which is maybe something they would’ve been concerned about if they weren’t trying to save the world. It’s not like Fitzroy’s going to complain any time soon, because at least he gets to see Argo let his guard down. 

“‘S fucked up that we have to do homework, isn’t it?” Argo asks. 

Fitzroy turns to look at him. “What’d’you mean?” 

“We’re trying to save, like, everyone, right? And we’re the only people at the school who know about Grey, and we’ve only got a few months before we have to fight him. And the Firbolg is in his room doing accounting homework.” 

Fitzroy laughs. “It only sounds bad when you put it like that.” 

Argo shrugs. “It’s true! We should get a saving-the-school exemption!” 

“You’re the only one saying it because you’re the only one in danger of failing.” 

“Not true!” Argo says, shoving his arm. 

Fitzroy blows out as he does so, sending the smoke billowing directly into Argo’s face. Argo blinks in confusion and tries to swat it away, which doesn’t do much considering the way most of the room is hazy with smoke. 

“Fuck off, don’t do that in my face.” 

Fitzroy smiles crookedly. It’s the smile of someone who is more than a little high, very stressed, kind-of-maybe in love with his roommate, and about to make some questionable decisions. “Argo.”

“Fitzroy.” 

“Have you ever tried-”

“I already don’t want to hear the rest of this question.”

Fitzroy scowls at him. “Shotgunning.”

“What, like shooting a fantasy gun?”

Fitzroy holds the blunt away from them as he laughs again, then starts coughing until Argo hands him a water bottle. “No, shotgunning with _smoke._ ”

Argo doesn’t know what shotgunning is, meaning Fitzroy has to explain it to him, which takes three minutes longer than it should because of their current states. Fitzroy is blushing crimson by the time he finishes explaining, and Argo looks just as embarrassed. 

“Are you asking if I want to - if I want to try?” 

“I - uh - yeah,” Fitzroy stammers. 

“Yeah.” 

“What?”

“You _asked!_ ”

“I didn’t expect you to say yes!” 

“Well, I did.”

“I know.” 

There’s a pause while both of them stew in their own awkwardness. Fitzroy takes a final inhale from their first blunt and puts it out by dropping it into an old cup of water. Argo makes a face at him, though it’s probably just for show, as they’ve had plenty of time to get used to each other’s general messiness. 

“Give it to me,” Argo says, gesturing to the new blunt Fitzroy’s trying to light. 

“Hey, I’m the one who suggested it.” 

Argo makes a face at him. “Yeah, and you already got smoke in my face. You need a taste of your own medicine.” 

Maybe it’s the way Argo assumes to know what he needs, or the way Argo’s saying that _he_ is what Fitzroy needs, but Fitzroy finds himself entirely unable to argue and hands him the blunt. 

Argo takes a drag and breathes in slowly. His eyes roll back in his head the way they always do when he takes a hit, and usually, Fitzroy looks away because it makes him feel some unwanted feelings, but now that he knows what’s coming, he’s absolutely powerless. Argo raises his eyebrows at Fitzroy, an _are you ready_ , and Fitzroy nods encouragingly. 

He exhales, and Fitzroy leans in closer, lets the smoke cloud his vision. It feels intimate, the way they’re less than a foot away from each other, and Fitzroy is overwhelmed by the way Argo trusts him like this. 

Argo frowns. 

“What?” Fitzroy asks, suddenly very afraid he’s done something to upset him. 

“You weren’t close enough, you didn’t get to inhale,” Argo says as if he’s the resident expert on this now. 

Fitzroy makes a face. “If you think you’re so good at it, why don’t you try?”

“Okay,” Argo says, handing Fitzroy the blunt. 

Fitzroy is surprised by how forward he is but takes it anyway. Argo leans in even closer, careful to avoid the lit end of the blunt, and Fitzroy is almost too distracted by Argo’s closeness to remember that he’s supposed to be taking a hit. But he does, and when he exhales, Argo moves so he’s got to be only a few _inches_ away from Fitzroy’s face. Argo inhales the smoke as soon as it leaves Fitzroy’s lungs, then turns around to let it out. 

When he turns back around, Fitzroy’s face is an impressive shade of crimson. 

“Was that bad?” Argo asks, somewhat self-consciously. 

Fitzroy shakes his head immediately. “No! I mean - no. It was good.”

“Again?”

Fitzroy doesn’t think his vocal cords have the ability to keep working, so he just nods. 

They do it again. This time, when Argo inhales the smoke, his bottom lip brushes Fitzroy’s ever-so-slightly and Fitzroy gasps before he can stop himself. 

“What, are you hot and bothered over _this_?” Argo asks. 

Fitzroy just blinks at him. 

Argo smiles despite himself. “Look, Fitz, uh…. I know we’re both, kinda, under the influence, but that noise you made was a little-”

“What are you trying to say,” Fitzroy asks. his voice is feather-light, terrified, and for the first time in probably his entire life, he wants to be sober so he can actually form coherent thoughts about this. Argo’s looking at him like he can see through him, like he _knows_ , even after Fitzroy has spent so long trying to act like he doesn’t have a huge, embarrassing crush on him. 

“No, I shouldn’t- we shouldn’t talk about this now,” Argo says, but he sounds conflicted. 

“What do you want to say?” Fitzroy asks. His voice is trembling in earnest, and he takes another hit in an attempt to calm his nerves. It doesn’t do much aside from add to the way his head is swimming. 

Argo falters. He reaches for the blunt, practically grabs it out of Fitzroy’s hand, and takes another hit as well. His eyes roll back and he exhales slowly as if the hit will bring him peace, and then he says, “I want to kiss you.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you mean that?” Fitzroy asks, quietly, so Argo could ignore it if he wants.

He nods. “Yeah.”

“I _always_ \- I mean, um, I want to kiss you, too,” Fitzroy manages to stutter out. 

“I don’t want to ruin anything.”

“You won’t,” Fitzroy says, but even he isn’t sure of it. 

Argo laughs, cold. “Fitzroy, I ruin a lot of things.” 

“Not this,” Fitzroy says, then pauses to think for a moment. “In the morning,” he says, finally, the heaviness of the words feeling strange on the weightlessness of his tongue, “will you still be here? Will you still want to do - this?” 

“ _Yes,_ ” Argo says immediately. 

“Then kiss me.” 

He does. 

Kissing Argo is nothing like he’d ever imagine it would be, mostly because Fitzroy’s fantasies usually involve Argo rescuing him and sweeping him into his arms and kissing him with the passion of a man who almost watched his lover die. Unfortunately, that’s not how their first kiss works out. 

Argo is everything all at once, and maybe it should be bad or too much but it isn’t. His lips are crashing against Fitzroy’s and he smells like smoke and it is wonderful. Fitzroy kisses back immediately, and they find a rhythm, lips pressing against each other until Argo’s tongue swipes across Fitzroy’s bottom lip. Fitzroy gasps and nods, and then Argo reaches forward to drop the blunt into the water cup with the other to free his hands. He moves a hand to the back of Fitzroy’s head, grabbing a fistfull of Fitzroy’s hair in an attempt to pull him closer. 

Fitzroy’s placing his hand on Argo’s jaw when Argo’s tongue enters his mouth in earnest, eager and intent and _hot._ Fitzroy barely registers letting out another gasp and then he’s reciprocating, and Argo can do _wonderful_ things with his tongue and Fitzroy is seriously regretting not figuring that out until now. 

The whole room smells like smoke, so of course Argo does too, but he also smells like salt and citrus and _Argo._ They’re surrounded by smoke and Fitzroy’s dimly lit room but knowledge of these surroundings are quickly fading as Fitzroy’s entire world, entire consciousness, is consumed by Argo. 

Argo pulls on Fitzroy’s hair gently, testing the waters, and Fitzroy isn’t in control of the noise he lets out as a result. He pulls Argo closer, holds him tighter, if such a thing is possible. And they’re still kissing, hot and wet and Argo’s tongue is _in his mouth_ and Fitzroy can hardly breathe. 

Argo is the first to pull away. “Damn,” he says.

Fitzroy nods. He looks to Argo for the blunt, but Argo just gestures to the cup of water. “Are you kidding me? There was half of it left!” Fitzroy says, though even he can’t really bring himself to be mad.

“I was preoccupied.” 

Fitzroy laughs. 

They are silent again, and without the blunt passing between them there is no longer any distraction. Fitzroy tries to revel in his high but finds it almost impossible when all he can think about is _Argo._

“Did you mean it?” Fitzroy asks finally, breaking the silence.

“Mean what?”

“When you said that - that - you would still feel this way in the morning.” He looks away, unable to meet Argo’s face. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Argo responds immediately, almost too eager. “Always.”

Fitzroy tries to ignore the way his heart pounds in his chest and finds it impossible. “How long?”

“A long time.”

“Me too.” 

“Really?” And Fitzroy can hear the surprise in his voice, can feel the way he’s fully looking at Fitzroy now. 

So he turns around to meet Argo’s eyes and nods. “Yes, of course.” 

“Then get back over here and kiss me senseless.” 

He does.

**Author's Note:**

> you can tell i got the idea for this and wrote it high . c'est la vie 
> 
> my tumblr: lafayettesass


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